


Of Peonies and Chrysanthemums

by InkAndJournal



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Blood, Coma, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Flowers, Fluff, Hanahaki Disease, Hospitals, M/M, Pining, but uh that didn't work lol, i tried to be canon the whole way, unbetaed, we die like men/fools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 22:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18291737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkAndJournal/pseuds/InkAndJournal
Summary: Makoto knew from the beginning that he had little chance of making it out unscathed.How could somehow like Haruka Nanase ever reciprocate his feelings? Haru didn’t ever seem to care for that kind of attachment to anyone else, and why would he? He had the infinite mass of the water that obscured that part of Haru’s life.Because of that, Makoto was content to play the role of best friend to Haru.Even if the petals that had been falling from his mouth for years begged to differ.





	Of Peonies and Chrysanthemums

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so little warning:
> 
> I have not watched any of the movies yet (only the episodes) so there is a VERY LARGE POSSIBILITY THAT I AM NOT CANON COMPLACENT. I APOLOGIZE NOW.
> 
> But yeah! I am now deep into the Free! fandom which is going to be a fun ride from what I've been told. Also another warning: I kinda-maybe did my own spin on Hanahaki?? whoops? The basic idea is the same but the flowers basically a physical representation of the love.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy!

Makoto pressed his back to the wall and slid down slowly as his breath came out in short gasps. He closed his eyes, desperately wishing away the pain that consumed his chest and throat. His cheeks were damp with tears, whether from emotional or physical pain was anybody’s guess. Makoto’s hands were warm and damp, and he had no doubt that they were stained bright red with blood.

 

Makoto sat there, refusing to open his eyes, for several minutes as the pain quelled and his breathing returned to a somewhat normal pace.

 

He blearily opened his eyes and saw the red that stained his sink and floor. On the floor, amongst all the petals, was a full peony, taunting him with its pale pink petals with hues of dark blue and indigo around the edge of each petal.

 

Bashfulness, romance, and luck.

 

He leaned forward and gently scooped the peony into his hand. He leaned back again and studied the peony. It was beautiful, just like the man they were for. He gently rubbed a petal; it was soft and inviting to the touch. The blues and indigo that danced on the petal always reminded him of Haru’s eyes: endless like the ocean and as blue as its depths. In a way, it was Haru’s eyes that helped him start to understand the ocean. He was still terrified of it, but it helped knowing Haru had the same spirit in his eyes.

 

Funny how the ocean always seemed to hurt Makoto in more ways than one.

 

Makoto used the wall to stand up and look at himself in the mirror. His hair was disheveled, eyes were red from crying, and blood stained the sides of his mouth. He smiled wryly and started to clean the blood from the sink and floor. He collected the petals and flowers and carefully placed them in the trash. He took another look at the peony he had been studying beforehand. It wasn’t the first flower to escape from his mouth without any damage to it, but it almost seemed to be warning Makoto as light glinted off of its petals.

 

On an impulse, Makoto took the flower and went to the kitchen. He filled a glass with water and placed the peony in it so that it was floating. He had seen his mother do the same with other flowers. Many years ago when he asked her, she said that the water helped the flower grow back stem and roots. She had smiled softly when young Makoto asked why she wanted to do that.

 

_ “There is nothing more inspiring watching the flower regrow after it has almost died.” _

 

Makoto watched the flower gently bump the sides of the glass as it floated. He placed the glass on a windowsill and returned to the bathroom to clean himself.

 

Minutes later, Makoto left his apartment and started his daily journey to Haru’s.

 

+++

 

_ Makoto had felt a tickle in his chest for weeks now. He had dismissed it as nothing and opted to focus on his workload. It was the first year of high school after all. _

 

_ But lately, the tickle tended to become painful for small periods of time. It hurt like hell but it always ended after a few minutes. Makoto kept that in mind as he rubbed his chest, trying to ease the pain and desperately wishing for time to pass faster. _

 

_ “Makoto, are you okay?” a voice from behind Makoto asked. Makoto quickly recognized it as Haru’s and felt his heart flutter. _

 

_ He turned around and met his friend’s gaze. “I’m fine!” Makoto smiled to further reassure Haru. The blue-eyed boy didn’t look convinced but he didn’t press. Fortunately for Makoto, the pain subsided and Makoto felt he could breathe again. He held in a sigh of relief as he stood up and collected his bag. “Should we head home?” _

 

_ “Yeah, sure.” _

 

_ Makoto and Haru left the school, and Makoto struck up a conversation. Haru responded when prompted, but Makoto knew he was listening. _

 

_ It was one of the many reasons why Makoto liked Haru. He always listened without fail even when it seemed like he wasn’t. _

 

_ They passed by the ocean, and Makoto stopped walking as his gaze went to the expanse of water. The green-eyed boy usually tried to avoid looking at the ocean, but today he couldn’t take his eyes off it. The sky was a brilliant shade of pink and the water a deep blue as waves crashed into each other and the shore. Makoto felt his heart race giddily when he thought of Haru’s eyes and how similar they were to the ocean’s current state Then he suddenly felt like he should be scared of those blue eyes. _

 

_ Makoto wasn’t able to dissuade that feeling. _

 

_ Haru stopped walking when he noticed Makoto looking at the ocean. The waves crashing and seagulls crying were the only sounds heard as silence filled the space between the two boys. _

 

_ “Makoto.” Haru said. Makoto took his eyes away from the ocean and looked to his friend. He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Haru looked bathed in the colors of the setting sun. _

 

_ Makoto smiled shyly. “Sorry Haru-chan, the ocean looked beautiful. I couldn’t help it!” _

 

_ Haru’s expression turned troubled. “You’ll tell me if something’s wrong, right?” _

 

_ Makoto blinked in surprise. The two boys looked at each other as the waves’ volume grew louder. Makoto thought they were issuing a warning before he dismissed the ridiculous thought. “Of course I’ll tell you, Haru. Why wouldn’t I?” _

 

_ Haru opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. He looked to the side for a moment before returning Makoto’s confused gaze once more. “You haven’t been yourself these past couple of days, and I thought something was going on.” Haru explained. _

 

_ Makoto breathed out a laugh. “Nothing is wrong, I promise.” _

 

_ Haru looked just as unconvinced as before, but like before, he didn’t press. _

 

_ The two boys continued homeward. _

 

_ Not long after, the reached the point where they would continue their separate ways home. Makoto turned to his friend and smiled. “Goodnight, Haru-chan!” _

 

_ Haru shook his head at the nickname. “I told you to stop calling me that.” _

 

_ Makoto laughed softly before turning around and climbing the stairs. _

 

_ He heard faintly “Goodnight, Makoto.” His heart sped up ever so slightly, and Makoto entered his house with a faint blush and shy smile. _

 

_ It wouldn’t be till later the strange feeling and ocean’s warning to Makoto would make sense. _

 

_ In the middle of the night, Makoto woke up gasping. The pain in his chest had become fire, mercilessly burning his lungs. He started coughing aggressively as he attempted to sit up. He wheezed as something became stuck in his throat. He choked and gasped into his hand as he desperately tried to unblock his air passage. _

 

_ With a final cough, Makoto felt something warm and soft fall into his hand. _

 

_ With heavy breaths, Makoto lowered his hand and looked into his palm. It was a petal: pink just like the sunset he had seen with Haru and blues and indigos just like Haru’s eyes. A drop of blood glinted in the faint moonlight as it sat on the petal. _

 

_ Makoto’s heart sunk. He had Hanahaki disease. _

 

_ It was that same evening that Makoto came to two realizations. _

 

_ One, he was in love with his best friend. _

 

_ Two, he would never tell his best friend about his feelings nor his condition. _

 

+++

 

It was a crisp winter morning as Makoto went about his usual routine. Finals were coming soon, and Makoto was not looking forward to them. Neither was Haru, but Makoto suspected the dislike was also in part of the fact that the swimming team hadn’t met in a week because of finals preperation. Makoto smiled fondly and ignored the wave of pain in his chest at the thought of Haru.

 

A few minutes later, Makoto was in front of Haru’s door. He knocked, not expecting an answer, but old habits die hard. Makoto breathed out a laugh after seconds ticked by with no answer and tried the door knob.

 

Haru’s door was unsurprisingly unlocked. Makoto opened the door and entered Haru’s dorm.

 

“I’m coming in!” Makoto announced as he closed the door behind him. Silence was what greeted him, which wasn’t abnormal, but Makoto couldn’t help but feel unsettled by it. “Haru?” he called out again. No response. He set down his bag and took off his shoes as he ventured further into Haru’s dorm.

 

He was in the kitchen when he heard faint coughing and gasps coming from the bathroom. His heart stopped at the sound.

 

They sounded just like his own.

 

Makoto sped to the bathroom and tried to open the door. It was locked. “Haru!” Makoto cried out desperately as he tried to open the door. Haru coughed aggressively again, a sound that Makoto never wanted to hear from his friend’s mouth.

 

Makoto took a step back and then rammed his shoulder into the door. The door opened, and Makoto was horrified by the scene in front of him.

 

Yellow petals and blood were everywhere. Haru was hunched in the middle of the bathroom, holding a hand over his mouth as tears ran down his cheeks. He made eye contact with Makoto and shook his head furiously. “You shouldn’t be here, Makoto. You shouldn-” Haru was cut off as he started hacking violently again. Makoto rushed to his friend’s side and rubbed his back as petals fell from Haru’s hands.

 

Chrysanthemums. Yellow ones with a gorgeous forest green in the middle.

 

Friendship, neglected love, and well-wishes.

 

“How long, Haru?’ Makoto whispered as Haru’s breathing evened. 

 

Haru leaned back into Makoto’s touch. “One month.” he wheezed as a drop of blood rolled down his chin.

 

Makoto’s heart fell. Hanahaki usually lasted for two or three months before claiming the victim’s life; it was miracle that Makoto was still alive after three years. 

 

Makoto’s heart plummeted further when he realized what Haru’s condition meant.

 

Haru had feelings for someone the same way Makoto did for Haru.

 

As Makoto cleaned Haru, he felt his heart slowly start to break into pieces and in the cracks, Makoto imagined peony roots taking hold. They would bloom when his heart was inevitably shattered, and it would one day grind to a stop.

 

Haru eventually walked out of his bathroom and despite Makoto’s insisting, he went to his morning class. On the way there, Makoto felt the air grow heavy with words that needed to be said, but neither man could bring themselves to say. Both their trains rushed in, and Makoto turned and smiled at Haru.

 

The blue-eyed man opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it and crossed the space between them in one stride and wrapped his arms around Makoto. Makoto’s eyes widened in surprise, and he felt his cheeks flush. “Thank you.” Haru said, voice muffled by Makoto’s jacket.

 

Makoto smiled and wrapped his arms around Haru’s smaller frame. “Anything for you, Haru.”

 

Even though Makoto could feel himself staring at death in the eyes, Makoto promised that he would see Haru with his love before it killed him. Anything for Haru, anytime, always.

 

They separated when the trains rang a bell that let them know that they were leaving. Makoto mourned the loss of Haru pressed up against his body as he waved Haru goodbye and boarded his train.

 

He desperately tried to keep back tears as pain racked his chest, harder than ever before.

 

+++

 

_ Nagisa had been the first of his friends to find out Makoto had Hanahaki disease. _

 

_ It had been after school during his second year of high school. He and Haru with a few classmates had stayed after school to clean the classroom. In the middle of the process, he felt the now familiar pain and asked to be excused, dreading what was to come next. _

 

_ He had been bent over the sink as blood and petals dribbled down his chin when someone walked into the bathroom. Makoto quickly stood up to see who came in. Nagisa’s shocked expression was what greeted him. _

 

_ “M… Makoto?” Nagisa whispered. _

 

_ Makoto coughed again, sending pink petals flying everywhere. Makoto wiped his mouth and painfully met Nagisa’s gaze again. _

 

_ “How long?” the blond asked as he crossed the space between them. _

 

_ Makoto debated whether or not to tell Nagisa. On one hand, he wanted Nagisa to hear it from him and not by a phone call from the hospital. On the other hand, Nagisa would know about his Hanahaki disease, and Makoto didn’t want to worry his friend.  _

 

_ Makoto’s breath shuddered as he realized that Nagisa  _ deserved  _ to know. “It’s been a year.” _

 

_ Nagisa sucked in a breath as he thought the same thing Makoto did every morning: how was he still alive? Silence unwelcomingly settled between the two for several moments as Makoto’s breathing leveled and Nagisa took in the new information. It wasn’t long before the pink-eyed boy placed a hand between Makoto’s shoulder blades. “Who are the flowers for?” _

 

_ Makoto blinked in surprise. “Isn’t it obvious? Haru.” _

 

_ Nagisa blinked before he laughed sadly. “Yeah, I guess it is kinda obvious. You two were always really close.” He picked up one of my the petals that littered the sink. “They’re beautiful flowers though.” _

 

_ “Peonies.” Makoto said. About a week ago, a full flower had fallen from his mouth, and he went to his mom in a panic. He had told her about his condition months ago, and she was the only one he felt he could turn to. His mother was worried by the full flower, nothing could hide that from Makoto, but she had told him it was a peony.  _

 

_ Later that day, he visited the library and found out that peonies represented good and bad luck, bashfulness, and romance. He had wanted to laugh, what a perfect flower to represent Makoto’s unreciprocated feelings for Haru. _

 

_ Nagisa hummed as he studied the petal. “Do you keep them? I know some people do.” _

 

_ Makoto turned away from Nagisa. “Sometimes, but I usually throw them away after a few days.” _

 

_ “Does anyone else know?” Nagisa asked as Makoto started to rinse his hands and face of the blood and petals. His worry was evident to Makoto. _

 

_ “Just my mom.” Makoto answered, still not meeting Nagisa’s gaze. _

 

_ “You’re going to die at this rate, Makoto.” Nagisa’s voice broke on his name. _

 

_ Makoto stilled. “I know, but what choice do I have?” _

 

_ Makoto returned to his classroom minutes after with an apologetic smile plastered on his face. Everyone forgave him easily, and Makoto quickly returned to his work. _

 

_ Despite how hard he tried not to think, he couldn’t help but remember Nagisa’s request before he left. _

 

_ “Tell him, Makoto. Please.” _

 

+++

 

Makoto gently closed the bathroom door, his chest still echoing with pain. In the past week, the disease had worsened considerably, and his lungs and throat deteriorated more and more as each fit took its course. Makoto could feel himself dying, and Haru still hadn’t revealed who his flowers were for.

 

Makoto shakily made his way to the kitchen where he spotted the peony he had placed in the glass ages ago. It had grown a stem and roots, and Makoto had transferred it into a pot where it continued to grow. It stood tall as the sunset basked it with oranges and yellows. Makoto studied the flower before he grabbed a glass of water and left the kitchen, not wanting to see the flower whose kin were growing inside of his lungs.

 

Makoto set the glass of water on the bedside table and collapsed on his bed. He supposed he should start on his work, but he was tired and all he wanted to do was sleep.

 

Makoto shifted onto his side and stared at the wall in the dim light. He felt he had finally come to the crossroads he always knew he would reach someday.

 

What to do about his Hanahaki disease?

 

On one hand he could tell Haru about his feelings. He had been considering the option, but now that he knew Haru had Hanahaki as well, he couldn’t. There was no way that both of them could walk out of the situation alive. The other option was to have the disease surgically removed. It was generally risk-free and most made it out alive. Yet, Makoto detested that option. He had heard that those who were close to their love interest before the surgery tended to drift apart afterwards. Some speculated the closer the victim was with the love interest, the farther they would drift from each other post-recovery.

 

Makoto didn’t want that either. Never did, never would.

 

That left him with only one other option: let the disease take its course and enjoy what little time he had left. Makoto always knew that would be the more painful option, but somehow it was the one he was most content with.

 

With firm resolution, Makoto sat up and quickly located his phone. He unlocked it and dialed the familiar number of his mother.

 

The phone rang once, then twice, before his mother picked up.

 

“Makoto?” came her voice, slightly distorted because of the bad connection.

 

Makoto curled up on the bed. “I know it’s late, but I really needed to ask you something.”

 

“What’s going on, Mako?”

 

“My Hanahaki is getting worse. I…” - he felt himself choking on his words - “I don’t know how much longer I have.”

 

Silence was what came from the other end.

 

Makoto continued, “Mom, please don’t operate on me. I… I’d just be living my life feeling incomplete, and I don’t want that.”

 

“Oh, baby… do you really love him that much?” Makoto could hear the pain in his mother’s voice, and it hurt him knowing he had caused it.

 

“Yes,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

 

“You never have to apologize for anything, Makoto.” his mother said, tears heavy in her voice, “Ever.”

 

“Thank you.” Makoto felt hot tears steadily fall down his cheeks, “Thank you.”

 

“You’ll visit this weekend, won’t you?” his mother asked.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Okay, we’ll talk later. I have to get Ren and Ran to bed. Goodnight, Mako.”

 

“Goodnight, mom.” Makoto paused, “I love you.”

 

He could hear his mom still over the other end. “I love you too, Mako. To the moon and back.”

 

He smiled, “See you soon.”

 

“You too.”

 

Makoto’s mom ended the call, and Makoto dropped the phone on his bed. He looked to his desk where his textbooks and assignments lay. He figured it was a good time as any to start working on them. After all, life continued on and waited for no one.

 

It would be a week later when Makoto would be found in his bed, blood and peonies everywhere.

 

+++

 

_ Makoto and Haru had been doing homework together on a cold December evening. Makoto had been doing his mathematics homework as Haru completed an assignment for their literature class. Haru clearly was having trouble with the assignment as he would write something before furiously crossing it out moments later. _

 

_ Makoto set down his pencil, “Haru-chan, do you need help?” _

 

_ Haru sighed in defeat. “Makoto, have you ever been in love?” _

 

_ Makoto felt a surge of panic. He may have Hanahaki and still  _ somehow  _ alive, but there was  _ no  _ way he was telling Haru he loved him. _

 

_ Like a fool, Makoto said he was in love. _

 

_ Haru blinked in surprise.  _

 

_ “Really? Who?” _

 

_ Makoto laughed nervously and internally panicked. He knew he couldn’t lie to Haru: he’d see right through Makoto. _

 

_ “Well, Haru-chan-” _

 

_ “Drop the chan.” _

 

_ Makoto laughed before smiling fondly at his friend. If he couldn’t lie, he might as tell a truth or two. “They’re one of the most amazing people I know. When they smile, I feel my heart race, and I love their eyes. They’re passionate about what they love and disregard whatever doesn’t apply to their interests. They may seem like an ass to everyone else, but I know that’s far from the case. They’re incredibly invested in the lives of their friends, and they always listen. That’s why I love them.” _

 

_ Makoto heard Haru’s breath hitch slightly. _

 

_ “I’ll probably never stop loving them.” _

 

+++

 

Darkness.

 

Pain.

 

Frantic yelling.

 

Makoto couldn’t open his eyes nor move his body; he felt disconnected from…  _ everything _ . It was like he was swimming in a black ocean, and somehow, Makoto felt content with that. It was peaceful and the light filtered in from the surface and gently bathed his face.

 

Distantly, he heard a man yell, but he couldn’t understand what he was saying. Makoto tried swimming to the surface to see if that would help, but it only seemed to grow farther and farther away.

 

_ Strange _ , Makoto thought.

 

Moments later, he felt a shock in his chest and the ocean fell away.

 

+++

 

Makoto felt a breeze. He opened his eyes, expecting a blue sky, but instead was met with the undersurface of the water. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and sat up. He gasped at what he saw.

 

A field of pale pink peonies with streaks of blue and indigo dancing on their petals.

 

He let out a half-scoff half-laugh of disbelief. He  _ had  _ to be dead at this point; maybe this was the afterlife’s way of testing him.

 

_ Ah, Mrs. Tachibana and Mr. Nanase, how are you? _

 

Makoto jumped at the sound. It was deep and masculine, but not harsh. He looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from, but he found no possible source.

 

_ We’re doing our best, Doctor.  _

 

That was his mom’s voice. Makoto tried to stand up, but found that he couldn’t. He frowned in confusion.

 

_ How is he? _

 

Makoto froze. That was Haru’s voice. What was Haru doing here? Surely the afterlife wasn’t this cruel.

 

_ He seems to be doing better. His vitals are stable, and his brain seems to be working properly, but without surgery-  _

 

_ No. No surgery, we’ve been over this.  _

 

Based on his mother’s response, Makoto presumed that the masculine voice was a doctor of some sort. Then, was he in the hospital? What had happened for him to be in this… state?

 

_ How long does he have? _

 

That was Haru’s voice. It was soft and full of pain, and Makoto wanted nothing more than to comfort his friend and reassure him it was going to be alright.

 

The deep voice sighed.  _ I don’t know. Mr. Tachibana is a unique case as far as we are concerned. There are very few cases of Hanahaki victims surviving for more than a year, let alone three. It is possible that Mr. Tachibana can make a full-recovery if his current condition continues to hold, but we don’t know for sure. _

 

Silence enveloped the group, and Makoto could sense the despair.

 

His current state was because of his Hanahaki disease.

 

_ Mrs. Tachibana, do you mind if I speak with you outside?  _

 

There was a moment of silence before Makoto heard a soft “sure” from his mother. Not long after, Makoto heard the sounds of footsteps and the sounds of a door opening and closing.

 

Moments after he felt warmth on his right hand. He looked at it, confused, not sure why it was warm.

 

_ Makoto, wake up. _

 

Then it clicked. Makoto was in the hospital because he was in some sort of coma from his Hanahaki disease. He was in the hospital, and so was Haru, holding his hand.

 

Makoto opened his mouth, desperate to respond, but the landscape collapsed around him and he was plunged into darkness once again.

 

+++

 

Makoto stirred and the first thing that flooded his senses was his fingers intertwined with someone else’s. It felt… nice. Makoto blearily opened his eyes.

 

White walls. White bed sheets. Dark hair.

 

Makoto’s fingers twitched in surprise and the person by his side started. Familiar blue eyes met Makoto’s green ones.

 

“H.. Haru?” Makoto whispered.

 

Haru didn’t respond, only searched Makoto’s eyes as if looking for some kind of explanation. Makoto felt a bead of nervous sweat make its way down his face.

 

“Uh, Har--”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Haru demanded. His tone made it clear he was not going to be denied an answer.

 

Makoto blinked once and then twice. “What didn’t I tell you?”

 

“Your Hanahaki. Why-” Haru’s voice broke ever so slightly “-why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Makoto’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him: Haru  _ knew _ . “You weren’t supposed to find out.” Makoto said without thinking.

 

Haru broke eye contact with Makoto and hung his head. “I was going to find out one way or another, Makoto.”

 

Silence fell between the two as they tried to figure out what to say to the other.

 

“How did you find out?” Makoto asked.

 

Haru was silent before he tightened his grip on Makoto’s hand. “When you didn’t show up to my place without telling me anything, I knew something was wrong.” Haru’s voice grew heavy, “I went to your place and found you on your bed. There were flowers and blood everywhere, and I… I was so  _ scared _ that you died.” He tore his gaze away from Makoto’s at that last statement.

 

Makoto opened his mouth to comfort Haru, but the raven-haired male beat him to it.

 

“Who are they for?” Haru asked, not meeting Makoto’s gaze. 

 

Makoto closed his mouth and stared at his hand, still in Haru’s, and squeezed Haru’s hand ever so slightly. Makoto smiled softly. “They’re for you. They always were.”

 

Haru raised his head, but Makoto kept his gaze on their hands and ran a thumb over Haru’s knuckles. “It was our first year of high school that I started coughing petals, but I think I always had a feeling I saw you as more than a friend. As the years progressed, I got better at hiding my Hanahaki, and I did all I could to stand by your side.

 

“I never told you because I didn’t want you to feel like you had to do something even though you didn’t share the same feelings.”

 

Silence stretched between the two of them before there was pressure against his lips, and Makoto’s eyes fell shut. Haru’s hand gently cupped Makoto’s cheek as their lips separated before meeting again in an endless cycle. It was slow and sweet and everything Makoto ever wanted. Haru’s lips were soft, just like the peony petals, and his fingers were a gentle fire on Makoto’s skin. Makoto’s free hand slid into Haru’s hair, soft and inky against his skin. 

 

Haru pulled away after one of many kisses and looked at Makoto in the eye. “I love you, Makoto Tachibana.” 

 

Makoto’s heart raced before realization crashed upon him and he smiled sadly. “You don’t need to say that, Haru.” Haru’s brows furrowed in confusion, and Makoto continued, “Your chrysanthemums, aren’t they for someone else?”

 

“I thought it was obvious. They’re yours.” Makoto looked at Haru in shock. “I love you, Makoto. I’ve had for a long time, and I’m sorry I didn’t say so sooner.”

 

The blood and flowers in Makoto’s throat vanished, and Makoto felt like he could breathe for the first time in years. Tears formed in Makoto’s eyes and fell down his cheeks. “I love you, Haru. I’m sorry I never told you-”

 

Makoto was cut off by Haru’s lips on his. There was a clear desire for more, but for now, they would make do with gentle touches and slow kisses.

 

Makoto’s heart felt the lightest it had been in years.

 

+++

 

Warmth. That’s how Makoto would describe the previous month.

 

He had been released from the hospital after the doctors concluded that his vitals were back to normal - actually, better than ever. The doctor that had taken care of him, Dr. Kyo, had asked if Makoto was interested in helping others through the emotional trials of Hanahaki disease. Makoto respectfully declined: that chapter of his life was over for good, and he was content to let it become a distant memory of the past.

 

Dr. Kyo had recommended that someone stay with Makoto for a week to make sure he was alright. Haru had volunteered for the task, and no one had complained. It was decided that Makoto would stay in Haru’s dorm during the week. Thus, for the week they were together for most of the time. Of course, when they had lectures they seperated, but as soon as the lecture ended they were back in each other’s presence. The week had flew by, and Makoto moved back to his own dorm. He wasn’t exactly relieved to be back, but it felt like he was home.

 

Although, Haru and Makoto still met with each other many times. Their morning ritual still continued, but they were a few mornings where they almost missed the train due to… well, things.

 

If ‘things’ was to be classified as Haru’s lips, that is.

 

The past month was definitely one of Makoto’s happiest. Although, it was also one of his most stressful as he still had his studies and it had been somewhat difficult to catch up on all the work he had missed, but Makoto felt at peace.

 

Makoto smiled sleepily as sunlight filtered its way through Makoto’s window. Its warmth combined with the one in his arms made his heart beat contently. Haru was  _ really  _ cuddly in his sleep, and Makoto delighted in that fact as Haru was basically a human heating lamp.

 

An insistent knocking interrupted Makoto’s thoughts. Makoto groaned, annoyed, and the sentiment was shared by Haru in his arms.

 

“Who the fuck is awake at this hour on a  _ Sunday _ ?” Haru hissed as Makoto sat up and rubbed his eyes awake.

 

The knocking continued. “I’ll go and see,” Makoto said as he tugged on boxers, a stray shirt, and pants.

 

Makoto got up from the bed which made Haru whine and reach for the olive-haired male. Makoto smiled in amusement at his sleeping lover. The knocking got louder, and Makoto sighed in defeat as he went to see who it was.

 

A few moments later, he opened the door and was greeted by Kisumi’s smiling face. Makoto blinked in surprise, “Kisumi, what-”

 

“Hey, Makoto! I hope you don’t mind me dropping by, but I kinda need your help, and well-” Kisumi continued to ramble on (all of which flew by Makoto’s tired head), and Makoto didn’t hear any steps behind him till Kisumi’s rambling stilled and warm arms wrapped themselves around Makoto’s chest from behind him without warning.

 

Makoto’s face flushed a mildly-concerning shade of red as he realized that Haru was very much shirtless with hickies from the night before clearly visible.

 

It was Kisumi’s turn to blink confusedly. “Ah, Haru. I see you’re also here.” Realization dawned on Kisumi’s face before it turned mischievous, “Hope it was a fun night-”

 

“OkaythankyouverymuchKisumiseeyousoonbye.” Makoto said speedily before shutting and locking the door in mortification. Makoto rested his forehead on the door as he tried to calm his racing heart.

 

“Can we go back to bed?” Haru asked as his hands slipped under Makoto’s shirt and roamed Makoto’s body, letting Makoto know that sleep was the last thing on Haru’s mind.

 

Makoto laughed breathily, “We just did that last night, Haru.”

 

Haru hummed. “Yeah, but I don’t hear you saying no.”

 

Makoto turned around and faced Haru. “Fine, you win.”

 

Haru smiled lazily, “There was no fight to begin with.”

 

Their lips met once again, slow and sweet before the kisses started turning heated. They slowly made their way back to the bedroom, removing clothing as they went, and kicked the bedroom door closed.

 

Warm.

 

That was how Makoto now described his life.

  
  



End file.
